


Alone in the Snow

by Sproid



Category: due South
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sproid/pseuds/Sproid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elaine is good at her job. At the end of the day, sometimes that means she worries about it more, not less.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>For the shippy tropes prompt "dream sequence", and for Linguini, who asked for "bad dreams, h/c, Elaine/Fraser with Elaine the dreamer".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linguini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguini/gifts).



“This is sloppy work, Detective,” Welsh growls out, slamming the file down on the table so hard that paper flies out everywhere and covers every inch of the floor. “We had everything in place, and then you jump in and mess things up. Is that what you wanted to achieve here?”

Standing to attention, Elaine snaps out, “No, sir,” while her palms sweat and she tries not to shake with shame.

Welsh sighs. “Give me your badge, detective.”

Elaine drops the badge on the floor when she tries to hand it over. Welsh just looks at her, then the door. Numbly, she trudges through the paperwork that’s piled around her legs, and leaves his office. 

In the squadroom, Davies is waiting for her, handcuffed and barely held in check by Ray. There’s blood around his mouth, murder in his eyes. He glows with rage and glee -

-and then he’s free.

Grinning with delight, he waves his hands in the air and throws the handcuffs out of the window.

“I’ll be seeing you, _Detective_ ,” he sneers. “But your little blonde friend won’t.”

One hand grabs Ray by his shoulder holster, and then he’s leaping across the room, over everyone’s heads in one long arc with Ray in tow, mouth open and hands reaching out but not catching hold of anything. Elaine tries to grab them but to no avail, her heavy arms won’t come up in time. Huey and Dewey shake their heads sadly, then get back to work. By the time Elaine manages to push her way to the door, battling the crowd that tell her she’s not a police officer any more, it’s too late.

\--

In the parking lot, Fraser and Dief are waiting for her.

Frowning, Fraser asks, “Why did you let them leave?”

“I - I didn’t,” Elaine protests. “Davies was too fast, I couldn’t stop him.”

“Ah.”

In the chill, Fraser’s breath mists. Elaine can’t answer that disappointed tone, so just rubs her hands together and tries to keep warm.

“Well, come on,” Fraser says. “We’ll never catch them at this rate. Dief, lead on.”

As he turns and walks into the woods, snow starts falling, and covers everything in seconds.

“How are you going to see Dief?” Elaine shouts to Fraser’s back. He doesn’t answer. Shivering, Elaine starts walking after him, desperate not to lose him too.

\--

They’ve been walking for hours and Elaine’s legs are tired, so tired. The snow keeps blowing in front of her, hiding Fraser from her, and she only catches up when he stops to sniff tracks that she can’t see. Dief is around somewhere, she can hear him howling out the way, the lonely lost sound chilling her to the bone. He shouldn’t be out there by himself, she thinks, what if he gets lost and can’t find his way back, or what if Davies finds him and kills him like he said he would -

_-Dief jumps up, snarling, but Davies knocks him away with a jab below the jaw that has Dief whimpering in pain-_

_-That’s a nice wolf, Constable Fraser, but I’d keep a tighter reign on him if I were you-_

_-Fraser, shaking hands buried in Dief’s fur, while Davies laughs and walks away-_

“No!” Elaine shouts, and the sound echoes around the woods, ringing away into silence until the only sound left is her breathing.

No howls from Dief. No instructions from Fraser.

When Elaine looks around, she’s by herself, and Fraser’s tracks are fading fast.

\--

Too long, she thinks as she stumbles on, too long and too far and Davies is too strong.

The shed appears in front of her, but even as she pushes open the door, she knows she’s too late.

Inside is dark and grey, everything frozen in dust and age. There are four points of colour; the flash of Ray’s blonde hair where he lies stiffly by the fire; Dief’s bright white fur, which fades while she watches; blood smeared crimson red over Davies’ face; and the angry blue of Fraser’s eyes as he struggles in Davies’ grip.

“Elaine,” he grits out, writhing and jerking and getting nowhere.

Davies laughs, carries on laughing when Elaine rushes forwards to grab at him with weak hands that lack the strength of a detective, laughs even harder when she goes for her gun and her badge and tells him, “Chicago PD! Stop right there, or I’ll -”

And then she realises why he’s laughing, because her hands are empty, and she can do nothing. All she can do is watch as Fraser slumps to the ground. She can’t meet his eyes, she knows what they’ll tell her. She’s failed him, she’s failed Ray, she’s failed Dief.

Dull pain radiates through her arm, and when she looks down, Davies is gripping it with his cruel fingers. “Your turn,” he says, grinning, teeth dripping with blood as he bends his head, and sinks his incisors in just above where his fingers lie. The heavy weight of shame mixes with the agonising burn of pain, and Elaine tries to keep quiet, grits her teeth together for as long as she can stand it, but it’s too much and -

\--

She wakes with a start to the sound of her own loud shout. There’s a sharp pain in her upper arm that mingles with the remnants of the dream, until she hears Fraser’s voice.

“Elaine?” he says. His voice is loud enough to bring her back to reality, but quiet enough that her rapidly-beating heart doesn’t suffer any more surprises.

“Fraser?” She blinks into the darkness. “Where-”

“Here,” he says, and his hand comes to rest on her shoulder from behind. 

It’s warm against her skin, hot almost. A second later, Elaine becomes aware of how very cold the rest of her is, and she shivers violently. Then she lets out a soft cry as her arm flares up again, while Fraser murmurs soothingly and urges her to roll towards him with a firm, smooth tug on her shoulder.

“Carefully,” Fraser murmurs. “You’re lying on your stitches.”

The facts of the situation are coming back to her slowly now - she must have kicked the covers off while they were sleeping, and rolled over onto her bad arm during the night - but she’s not quite with it enough yet to stop herself from asking, “Not bitten?”

“Bitten?” Fraser sounds surprised, but thankfully answers anyway. “No. Davies shot you - or shot at you, anyway, just before you kicked the gun out of his hand.” His arms come around her, avoiding everywhere she’s bruised and battered, even though it’s nearly pitch black in the room. He’s warm and strong, and when Elaine presses her head to his shoulder, she can hear him breathing. She grips him back, puts her hand against his chest, and thank goodness, his heart is beating strong and sure against her hand.

“Ray? Dief?”

“Ray handled processing Davies, then went home to sleep. I believe he said he planned to stay in bed for the next three days. Dief is lying under the bed, pretending not to be worried about you.”

Elaine breathes in, and then out, forcing herself to calm. It’s hard with the nightmarish images that are still flashing through her brain. We caught him, she reminded herself. Davies didn’t kill Dief, Fraser found Ray, I found Fraser, we caught Davies and he’s behind bars, where he’ll stay for the rest of his life.

“Dief,” Fraser says. “Light.”

There’s a rustle, and then a few thumps, and then another thump followed by light flooding the room. Blinking into Fraser’s chest, Elaine can’t help a quiet laugh, and murmurs, “When did you teach him to do that?”

“Oh, he taught himself. I think he wanted to prove that he was useful, so you’d let him stay.”

Raising her head, Elaine looks over Fraser’s shoulder, so she can see Dief where he’s standing under the light switch. Head tilted to one side, he looks back, and woofs quietly at her. “I’m fine, Dief,” she tells him. Better now she’s seen for sure that he’s alright. “Go back to sleep.”

He trots back over to his blanket, and curls up, still looking at her.

Then Elaine looks up at Fraser, who smiles gently at her, the concern and understanding in his face a warm contrast to the lingering dread from her nightmare. “Bad dream?” he asks.

Elaine nods. “Yeah.” Hand shaking slightly, she reaches up to cup his face carefully, needing to touch him just for a while. He turns into her hand and presses a kiss to her palm, then looks back at her, meeting her gaze while his hands rub gently over her back. There’s no anger in his eyes, no disappointment, just warmth and a hint of tiredness. It’s him, he’s safe and alive, half-sleepy but wholly focussed on her, and he’s _fine_.

Elaine feels the last of the terror slip away, and leans up to kiss him briefly, before she tucks her head back under his chin. “Davies was a vampire,” she murmurs.

“Oh?” Fraser lets go briefly to pull the blankets up around them both, and then wraps his arms around her again. “Did you include that in your report?”

“Smartass,” Elaine mumbles into his chest. Wriggling closer, she nudges a leg in between his, and sighs as his heat starts to seep into her. “My first big case; I suppose bad dreams were inevitable, huh?”

“Stress does tend to release itself in odd ways,” Fraser agrees. “Even when there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah?” Elaine prompts. Right now, she doesn’t feel bad for needing to hear it from Fraser.

He holds her tighter. “Yes. You solved the case, Elaine. It was a thorough, detailed, and comprehensive investigation. You got all the facts, you followed up all the leads, you found Davies and you stopped him before he could hurt anyone else. It was excellent work. You’re an excellent detective, Elaine. Ray and I were lucky to have you in the lead on this.”

For a moment, Elaine just tightens her arms around him as much as she can, until her sore muscles start to protest at the effort. When she loosens her grip, she relaxes all at once, and her fears of failure have slipped into the realms of the ridiculous once more. “Thanks, Fraser,” she whispers.

With a kiss to the top of her head, he murmurs, “I mean every word. Go to sleep, Elaine. You’ve earned it.”

Eyes drifting shut, Elaine stays awake just long enough to hear Fraser’s murmured instructions for Dief to turn the light out, and to smile when she feels the end of the bed dip as Dief settles onto it. Then she drifts off, tucked safely under the covers with Fraser, while Dief snores and chases rabbits in his unworried dreams.


End file.
